


Winter Promises

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Caring Greg Lestrade, Developing Relationship, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Sugar Daddy, Virgin Mycroft Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:35:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26086567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: When Greg picks up Mycroft on a cold evening, he doesn't know it's the start of something wonderful.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 56
Kudos: 220





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me mostly on twitter these days @merindab

Greg had seen the skinny redhead around a few times. The kid was clearly living on the street, but whenever Greg thought about approaching him, he'd vanish. No doubt because he didn't want to have any more run-ins with cops than he had to.

This particular evening, Greg was driving home from work in a rainy sleet that was threatening to turn to snow. It was late and well after dark when he stopped at a light and glanced over, seeing the young man huddled up in a doorway.

There was no traffic. Greg looked at the light, looked in the mirror, and sighed. It wouldn't be his fault if something happened, but he'd feel that way if he didn't try to help. Turning his collar up against the weather, he got out of the car and approached.

For a moment, he looked like he'd run off again, but this time Greg had him cornered. "Going to arrest me?" he asked through chattering teeth.

"Is there a reason I should?" He asked, then shook his head. "Come on, you'll freeze to death out here."

He studied Greg's face for a few long moments, then nodded and followed him to the car.

Greg got behind the wheel as the young man climbed into the back. Greg turned the heat up and started driving. "My name's Greg. What's yours?" he asked, looking in the rearview mirror.

"Mycroft," he said, looking up to meet his eyes, then glancing away.

"I take it you've got nowhere to go," said Greg.

"If I did I wouldn't have been in a doorway. My parents kicked me out."

"How old are you?" asked Greg.

"Eighteen," said Mycroft, shifting in his seat.

"Are you actually eighteen or just saying that?"

Mycroft looked at him in the mirror again. "I'm eighteen. You can check. Mycroft Holmes."

Greg would, but not tonight. He quit asking questions and focused on the road, parking behind the block of flats that held his home. Not much of one, but there wasn't much else he could do as a middle-aged divorced man, if he wanted to stay in the city.

They headed up to his flat and Greg unlocked the door, stepping inside and hanging up his coat. "Make yourself at home," he said. "I'm going to fix dinner. If you want to grab a shower, feel free."

Mycroft nodded and went down the hall. Greg looked around his messy flat and picked up a bit, at least getting the clothes into a basket. Stepping into his bedroom, he pulled out a jumper and a pair of pants that were a little small, quickly and quietly leaving them in the loo before he went into the kitchen.

By the time Mycroft came out, Greg had a pot of water boiling on the stove. He glanced over with a smile. "Better?" He tried not to notice how the jumper was slipping down one side, baring Mycroft's shoulder.

"Yes, thank you," Mycroft, taking a seat at the tiny table.

"You're welcome," said Greg, getting them each a glass of water. He scratched at the scruff on his chin and took a seat, deciding not to stare at the timer.

Mycroft scrubbed a hand through his hair. "So, to answer your inevitable questions. I was kicked out for being gay. I do have a small criminal record. I've been on the streets for a year and a half and I haven't had much luck finding honest work."

Greg shrugged. "Fair enough. I'm a Detective Inspector for the Met. Been a cop most of my life."

"You divorced eight months ago and you're not currently seeing anyone." Mycroft met Greg's gaze.

Greg blinked a few times. "Good guess," he said.

"I never guess," said Mycroft coldly, looking away.

Greg opened his mouth to respond, but the timer went off. He hopped to his feet and went to shut it off. He drained the water, grabbed the pasta sauce from the fridge and deposited two plates on the table.

Mycroft ate quickly, the way Greg would expect him to. He didn't try to talk and Greg didn't push him, just enjoyed the quiet, finding it comforting to have someone's presence. He caught himself glancing at Mycroft as they ate, wondering about the younger man.

Finishing his dinner, Mycroft sat back and sighed. "You have more questions for me?" he asked.

"Not right now, no. Well, one. Want to help me with the dishes?"

Mycroft nodded and moved to help him, washing the plates while Greg put them away.

"I'm just gonna watch TV for a while," said Greg when they finished. "You're welcome to join me or if you're tired you can use my bed."

"I'll rest," he said, leaning in to kiss Greg's cheek. "Thank you."

"Welcome," said Greg, surprised by the action.

He watched Mycroft go down the short hall, then headed for his front room and got comfortable on the sofa. 

As he flipped through the channels his thoughts kept straying to the younger man down the hall. He was  _ eighteen _ , he reminded himself. Even if he did carry himself like someone older.

Finally, Greg gave up on the telly and flipped off the lights, going down to his bedroom.

Greg changed into a comfortable old shirt in the dark. Mycroft was curled up on one side of the bed as if trying not to take up too much room. Greg carefully eased into bed, trying not to wake him.

He quietly set his alarm on his phone and put it aside, pulling up the blankets against the chill.

Just as he started to get comfortable, Mycroft rolled over and put a hand on his chest, scooting close.

"Mycroft?" asked Greg, putting an arm around him.

"You're attracted to me," said Mycroft quietly.

"Well, I'm not blind. But I am far too old for you."

"No, you're not," said Mycroft, shifting closer and kissing Greg's throat.

_ Oh God _ . Greg put a hand on Mycroft's back, thinking he should push him away, but instead he pulled him a little closer. Mycroft's hand slid down towards Greg's cock, stopping just short of his goal.

"You want this?" asked Greg, trying to focus, despite the wonderful feeling of a warm body pressed next to his.

"I do," said Mycroft, kissing along Greg's jaw, lips dragging across the stubble.

_ Fuck _ . Well, Greg was only human and there'd been no one for close to a year. He rolled them over, settling between Mycroft's thighs as he kissed him deeply.

Mycroft moaned and wrapped his arms around Greg's shoulders, rolling his hips. 

Greg moved his head to kiss Mycroft's bared shoulder, one hand grabbing Mycroft's waist. Mycroft was already naked beyond the jumper and while that should maybe worry Greg, he found that in this moment he didn't care.

"Gonna take good care of you," murmured Greg, kissing down Mycroft's chest as he blindly grabbed a condom and the lube from his bedside drawer. It had been a hopeful impulse purchase, but they were coming in handy now.

Mycroft moaned as Greg reached his slender cock and bestowed a quick kiss to the head of it. He quickly rolled a condom over Mycroft, then followed it by his mouth, taking him almost all the way down.

It had been quite a while since Greg had sucked anyone's cock, but he found it easy enough to remember, especially with the encouraging sounds coming from Mycroft's mouth. He slicked his fingers and pressed one into him.

"Please," groaned Mycroft, spreading himself wider in offering. There was certainly no turning back now as Greg carefully worked him open.

Greg pushed his own pants off, then, when he judged Mycroft ready, he knelt back and peeled off his shirt. He rolled on a condom and slicked himself, moving back over Mycroft and kissing him again as he pressed into him.

Moaning, Mycroft held him close. Greg took his time, Mycroft tight around him as he slowly thrust deeper. "Put your legs around me," murmured Greg.

Mycroft obeyed, gasping as Greg bottomed out. Greg held himself there, kissing Mycroft, letting him get used to his girth. "So good," whispered Mycroft.

"Yeah, you are," said Greg as he started to move again, a little harder, a little faster. He felt Mycroft come between them, untouched, and swore under his breath, losing rhythm as he approached his peak.

Greg came with a soft groan, holding Mycroft as he pulsed inside him. "Beautiful," he whispered, kissing Mycroft's ear.

"Thank you," murmured Mycroft, sounding sleepy.

Smiling, Greg carefully pulled out, binning his condom and helping Mycroft roll onto his side so he could remove his and bin it as well. He went down to the loo for a cloth and cleaned them both up. Mycroft was already all but asleep as he finished.

Greg tossed the cloth in the dirty clothes basket and climbed back into bed. Mycroft snuggled against his chest. Greg still couldn't quite shake the feeling that this was wrong, but he was more relaxed and satisfied than he'd been in ages and quickly fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Greg startled awake as his mobile rang. Groaning, he grabbed it, still half asleep. "Yeah, I'll be there in a minute," he said, trying to remember why there was a naked someone in his bed.

Oh right. Mycroft. 

Mycroft looked at him, squinting as Greg turned on the bedside light. "Sorry, love. Work needs me," he said. He glanced out the window. "Weather is still shite. Stay here if you want."

Mycroft nodded, snuggling back under the covers, looking young and vulnerable as he closed his eyes again.

Scrubbing a hand through his hair, Greg threw on his clothes and made a half-assed attempt at shaving before heading out the door. Leaving a homeless kid alone in his flat probably wasn't the smartest thing he'd ever done, but he had a gut feeling he could trust him. 

As he drove in to work, Greg drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Even if Mycroft stayed, he probably shouldn't sleep with him again. But as he had that thought he also knew he'd give in to that temptation at the next opportunity.

The murder ended up being not far from where he'd picked up Mycroft the night before and Greg found himself doubly glad that he'd done so, though it was too late for this one. He put those thoughts aside and focused on his job, doing what needed to be done.

He finally got home in the late afternoon, tired and hungry and in need of a nap. Opening the door, he was surprised to find the flat completely tidied. Something delicious was clearly cooking in the kitchen, and, when he closed the door and followed his nose, Mycroft was sitting at the kitchen table in one of Greg's button up shirts, folding laundry.

"Mycroft, you didn't have to do all this," said Greg.

He shrugged. "It seemed the least I could do. You didn't have much in your pantry, but I think this soup will do."

"I'll give you money for groceries," said Greg, sitting down across from him and picking up a shirt to fold. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," said Mycroft. "If you want to take a nap, dinner will be ready in about thirty minutes. I wasn't sure when you'd be home."

"Got off early because I was called in. Let me help you with this and then I'll take a short rest."

Mycroft shrugged and the two of them finished folding everything. Mycroft picked up the basket to carry it into the bedroom, putting it on top of the dresser.

Greg caught his hand as he turned to leave. "Lay down with me?"

Nodding, Mycroft curled up under the covers. Greg leaned over to kiss him gently. "What do you want?"

"I don't understand the question," said Mycroft.

"Yes, you do. I don't mind you staying here. I really don't, and not just because this the cleanest the place has been for months and that was some pretty great sex last night. You're brilliant, that's obvious. Do you want to go to school?"

Mycroft hesitated, studying his face, and nodded. 

"Alright, then we'll make it happen." Greg squeezed his hand. "Tomorrow we're going to go to the bank. I've got a little bit of money saved up. We'll get you an account, and any money I put into it is yours. We'll get you a computer and clothes and we'll see what we need to do to get you enrolled."

"And what do you want from me?" asked Mycroft, putting his hand on Greg's hip.

Greg picked up his hand and kissed his knuckles. "You don't have to sleep with me," he said gently.

"I want to," said Mycroft. "You're kind and gentle."

"I'd imagine nobody has treated you that way in a while," said Greg.

"Nobody has treated you that way, either."

Greg smiled. "See, brilliant. And it's true. But I do mean it, seeing you safe and pursuing your interests is all the reward I need."

"I do want you," said Mycroft, moving to straddle Greg's waist. "As much as you want me."

Greg cupped the back of Mycroft's neck and pulled him down into a kiss. "Fine, but I'd like us both to get tested when we're out tomorrow."

"I know for a fact that I'm clean, but I understand," said Mycroft. He hesitated and met Greg's gaze. "You're the first to have me."

Greg swore under his breath. He slipped a hand under the too-large shirt Mycroft was wearing to grasp his cock. "Then I'll be all the happier to teach you everything."

Mycroft moaned. "Yes, please."

Greg shifted Mycroft onto his back and kissed him deeply, hand moving with firm strokes. Mycroft moaned, arching against his touch.

Greg raised his head and watched his face, smearing Mycroft's precome down his shaft. "I want you to come for me."

Mycroft nodded, eyes screwed tightly shut. Greg leaned down to kiss his throat, then unbuttoned the top button of the shirt to kiss his collarbone, dragging his tongue across the bared skin.

"Close," groaned Mycroft, breath catching as he writhed under Greg's touch.

Greg caught his wrists and held them above Mycroft's head, leaving him helpless to anything but Greg's desire. God, but this was intoxicating.

With a quiet moan, Mycroft spilled over Greg's hand. Greg worked him through it, watching his face. "Good," he said, his own neglected cock throbbing with need.

Finally, Myroft's breathing slowed and he cracked open his eyes, giving Greg a genuine smile. "Thank you."

Greg grinned back. "You're more than welcome," he said, letting go of Mycroft's wrists and kissing him again.

Mycroft cupped his cock through his trousers. "Can I take care of you?"

"I'm sure you can. You want to suck me off?"

"Yes, please," said Mycroft, licking his lips.

Greg moved to sit against the headboard, opening his flies and drawing out his cock. He rolled on a condom and looked at Mycroft. "Take your time," he said as Mycroft knelt between his legs.

Mycroft nodded, glancing at his face before dropping his head to mouth the head of Greg's cock.

Greg moaned softly, putting a hand on Mycroft's shoulder, murmuring instructions. Mycroft bobbed his head, following what he was being told.

Mycroft was a fast learner. Greg's eyes slipped closed and he tried not to thrust up into Mycroft's mouth. "Pin my hips with your hands," he said softly.

Obeying, Mycroft held his hips, bobbing his head a little lower. Greg let go of his shoulder to run a hand through his hair. 

"That's good," said Greg, breath coming harsh. "Here, pull back."

Mycroft slowly obeyed, kneeling and wiping his mouth as he adjusted his jaw.

"I know, it's a lot at first," said Greg. "You'll get used to it. Watch me." He kept his eyes on Mycroft's face as he started stroking himself. Mycroft's eyes looked at Greg's speeding hands.

Greg's eyes slammed shut at the last moment, groaning as he came. "Fuck, Mycroft," he groaned, opening his eyes and cupping Mycroft’s face, drawing him up into a sloppy kiss.

"Later," grinned Mycroft "Dinner's ready by now."

"And I never did take a nap. Well, it was a good distraction anyway." Greg held his chin as he kissed him again, all his doubts vanishing like smoke.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning they slept in. Greg woke up feeling better than he had in quite some time, Mycroft curled up against his side. He stroked his hand down Mycroft's back and kissed his temple.

Mycroft raised his head, giving him a sleepy smile before leaning in for a kiss. "Come on, let's take a shower together and then we'll go out for breakfast."

"Sounds perfect," said Mycroft, laying his head back down on Greg's shoulder.

Greg toyed with Mycroft’s hair for a moment before gently nudging him out of bed. They made their way to the loo and Mycroft yawned as he turned on the water.

They stepped into the shower together. Soaping up a cloth, Greg washed Mycroft, kissing his neck but not teasing him too much. After all, he really did want to leave the house this morning. He found he truly did like taking care of the younger man.

They bundled up against the cold, Mycroft in one of Greg's extra jackets and a jumper. It wasn't a far walk to the shops, and Greg led him into a clothing store first. "Pick out anything you like."

"Anything?" asked Mycroft, reaching out to touch a nearby shirt.

"Yep. Anything."

Mycroft looked at him, then vanished into the racks of clothes. Greg smiled and took a seat near the dressing room where he could keep an eye on the rest of the store while Mycroft got an armful of clothes. He grinned at Greg as he passed him to try them on.

In the end, Mycroft picked out a few nice button up shirts and trousers, a jumper, underwear and socks, and a new jacket. Greg paid and Mycroft slipped into the bathroom to change.

"Feel better?" he asked Mycroft as he settled into the new jacket.

Mycroft nodded. "Do you think I could get a haircut?"

"Whatever you want," said Greg. "But let's get breakfast first."

"Okay."

They ate breakfast together with their feet touching under the table. Afterward Greg took Mycroft to the barbershop before finally going into the bank.

The teller gave them a look as Greg explained what they wanted, but she did what he requested, even if she wasn't entirely happy about it. Greg tried not to let it bother him, knowing that, yeah Mycroft was young enough to be his kid.

When they finished, Mycroft looked a little less happy as they walked. "Does it bother you?" he asked.

"Does what bother me?" said Greg, slowing his steps and looking at Mycroft.

"The way she looked at you at the bank. It will happen again, you know."

"As long as you're happy, I don't care what anyone else thinks," said Greg, giving Mycroft a smile. "I told you, you don't have to sleep with me, but if you want to, I'm not complaining. We're both adults."

"It feels nice to have someone care about me," admitted Mycroft.

"And I do," said Greg, leaning in to give him a quick kiss. "Let's drop these off at home, then we'll go to the clinic."

"Alright," Mycroft smiled at him in a way that made Greg's heart do a little flip.

After the shopping was dropped off at home, they headed to the clinic. Greg suggested that Mycroft get a checkup while they were there. Greg finished first and slipped out to get a copy of his flat key made, returning just as Mycroft came out of the back.

"Everything good?" asked Greg.

Mycroft nodded. "Very good."

"Excellent. Let's get some lunch and go home."

They spent much of the afternoon on the sofa watching telly. Greg listened to Mycroft talk about what they were watching and other things, all the more certain that he was quite likely the most intelligent person he'd ever met.

After dinner they curled up together in bed, Greg sitting against the headboard and holding Mycroft close. "I'm back to work tomorrow, but if you'd like to look at what you need to do to get back into school, I'll make sure it happens."

Mycroft nodded. "You really mean that. You really want to take care of me. And you would even if I said I didn't want to have sex with you."

"Absolutely," said Greg, running his thumb along a bared patch of Mycroft's skin. "The last thing I want to do is hurt you."

"My own family barely wanted to take care of me," said Mycroft, some bitterness seeping into his voice. "I was the eldest, the smart one. I could handle it all on my own. Until it was revealed that I was the family disappointment."

Greg kissed his temple "What happened? If you want to tell me."

"My mum caught me kissing one of my classmates. She got home early from a luncheon. I was on the streets before dark."

"That's awful and cruel," said Greg, holding him a little tighter.

Mycroft shrugged. "She said that clearly I was only going to throw away my education, the family legacy and our reputation. I've no idea how she explained that she no longer has an elder son."

"The only person that threw anything away was her," said Greg. "You're brilliant, and if you’re gay or anything else, it doesn't change that. It's like... throwing out a diamond ring because you don't like the setting. The stone's still worth it. And you, Mycroft, are quite the diamond."

Mycroft raised his head and kissed Greg deeply. Greg tugged him into his lap, squeezing Mycroft's bottom. "You make me feel worthy," said Mycroft.

"You are," promised Greg. "And you're going to change the world, I know it."

Mycroft kissed him and rolled his hips. "I've changed yours."

"In the best ways," said Greg, pushing Mycroft's pants aside and wrapping a hand around his cock.

Mycroft moaned, head dropping back. "I love the way you touch me," he breathed.

Greg kissed his throat. "Good. If ever do something you don't like, tell me."

"I... ahh... will."

Greg smiled and shifted Mycroft to strip him naked, shimmying out of his own clothes. He grabbed the lube and pressed a finger into him, making Mycroft groan as he took him in hand again.

"Show me how much you want me," murmured Greg.

Mycroft kissed him and rolled his hips, thrusting forward into Greg's grip and pushing back against his fingers, panting, hair falling into his eyes. Greg added another finger after a few minutes, letting Mycroft do the work and thrilling as he watched.

"Fuck me," groaned Mycroft.

Greg let go of him to roll on a condom, then grabbed Mycroft's hips and guided him down onto his cock. "Breathe," he said softly. "Bear down on me."

Mycroft gulped and obeyed, eyes screwing tightly shut as Greg filled him.

"Good," said Greg, kissing his shoulder. Mycroft started to move as Greg guided his hips.

It didn't take long for Greg to roll them over so he could thrust into Mycroft with abandon. Mycroft moaned, happily surrendering to Greg's desires. In almost no time at all, Greg was reaching his peak, groaning as he climaxed, holding Mycroft tightly in his arms.

When Greg got his brain back online, he kissed Mycroft, then carefully pulled out, sliding down and swallowing his cock.

Mycroft cried out and came almost instantly, clinging to the bedsheets as Greg swallowed every drop.

Finally, Greg moved back up and kissed Mycroft again, holding him close. "I care about you and I'm going to do my best to show you every day."

Mycroft grinned at him, sheer happiness in his eyes. "That's all I want," he breathed.

"Good." Greg kissed him again and they settled in to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

They settled into a comfortable routine over the next few days. It didn't take Mycroft long to find an online course he could enroll in and Greg had no qualms about putting it on his credit card. 

With his new clothes and a warm place to stay, Mycroft was able to find a part time job at a shop down the street. Greg assured him that he didn't have to, but he also knew it was important for Mycroft to have something for himself, even if it was only a few hours a week. 

Greg came home at night to a warm meal and a clean flat. Mycroft made him feel cared for as assuredly as he cared for Mycroft. They were making themselves into a family of two. This was the best thing that had happened to either of them for a long time. It was nearing Christmas and Greg found himself looking forward to it for the first time in years. 

This particular evening they were in the living room with the telly on, though neither of them were watching it. Since the tests had come back clean Greg really was enjoying exploring every inch of Mycroft's body. In this case Mycroft was bent over the arm of the sofa, arse in the air as Greg held his hips and licked him open.

Mycroft made the most amazing mewling sounds, his cock hanging heavy and dripping, Greg's hand moving from his hip to fondle him, holding himself back for the moment, no matter how much he wanted to pound into Mycroft.

"Please," moaned Mycroft, nearly shaking with need.

Greg pulled back and wiped his mouth, pushing two fingers into him to test how open he was. Satisfied, he shifted up and guided himself in, pinning Mycroft with a hand between his shoulder blades. 

Mycroft moaned as Greg slowly filled him. Greg was still amazed by how beautiful Mycroft was in moments like these, how responsive, how he was everything he desired.

Greg bottomed out, then reached around to take Mycroft in hand. He cried out and came at the first stroke. Greg kissed the back of his neck as he worked him through it, then grabbed his hips again and started taking him, hard.

Moaning again, Mycroft gave himself over. Greg might have left fingertip bruises on his hips as he claimed him. He came with a groan of his own, wrapping his arms around Mycroft and toppling them back onto the sofa cushions. He held Mycroft in place for a few moments longer, swearing softly as Mycroft squeezed around him.

Finally, they shifted to lay on their sides. Greg ran a hand down Mycroft's side, kissing his neck again, feeling Mycroft smile. "Thank you," murmured Mycroft.

"Believe me, the pleasure is mine," said Greg.

They lapsed into comfortable silence, just starting to drift off to sleep when Greg's phone rang.

"Damn," muttered Greg, shifting Mycroft so he could grab his mobile. "Lestrade."

"That murder you handled last week? We've got some kid here saying he has information, but he doesn't want to talk to anyone but you."

"Right. I'll be there soon as I can." Greg hung up and kissed Mycroft's cheek. "I need to run into work."

"I'm not going anywhere," promised Mycroft, smiling up at him. 

Greg ran fingers through his hair and reluctantly got up. He quickly brushed his teeth and threw on clothes, trying to look at least a little presentable, even if it was just some kid. Maybe he was homeless too and had seen something that night.

Giving Mycroft one last kiss on the way out the door, Greg shivered in the cold, wide awake as the wind sliced through his coat.

It wasn't a long drive to the station. Greg hurried inside and down the hall, finding a dark haired kid sitting in his office along with an officer, who was eyeing the boy warily. "Good luck," she muttered, leaving and closing the door after her.

"Evening," said Greg conversationally, taking a seat behind his desk and grabbing a pad of paper. "I'm Greg Lestrade. Understand you've got some information for me?"

The boy looked him over. It reminded Greg of the way Mycroft looked at him sometimes, as if he were reading every detail of his life in a glance. He sat back and nodded, pulling a wallet in a plastic bag out of his pocket. "This is the guy that did it," he said, tossing the bag onto Greg's desk.

Greg raised an eyebrow. "And how do you know?"

The kid leaned forward and lay out an elaborate story about two men getting into an argument, then a fight and the one with the wallet pulling a knife. It matched the little bit of evidence they'd gathered so far, and he supposed it wouldn't hurt to bring him in for questioning.

"Did you see it happen?" asked Greg.

He shrugged. "I saw the body. I was looking for someone else." 

It had been an anonymous tip, so it was possible. "We'll have to investigate," he said, making some more notes on his pad. “Did you take this from the crime scene?”

"He was in the pub a little ways down. But I know he's guilty."

"We still need evidence to convict," said Greg. "What was your name?"

He hesitated, then looked away. Greg thought for a moment he might bolt. "Sherlock Holmes."

"Huh," said Greg sitting back in his chair. Mycroft hadn't volunteered much more information about his family, but Greg had looked at the public records. "You were looking for your brother."

Sherlock nodded, picking at his jeans.

"Do your parents know where you are?" asked Greg, keeping his voice gentle.

"They think I'm home," he said.

"Do you feel safe there?" asked Greg.

Sherlock shrugged. "I will be unless they find out I'm like Mycroft."

"You're what, eleven?" asked Greg. "Mycroft's been staying with me for a week or so."

"You're fucking him," said Sherlock, looking up and meeting his eyes.

"He's an adult," said Greg. "And I didn't force him into anything."

Sherlock looked away. Knowing how smart Mycroft was, he wasn't surprised Sherlock had some of the same abilities. "Do you want to see him?" asked Greg.

"You're not gonna force me to go home?" asked Sherlock.

"Not right now, but you're a minor, so you'll have to go home eventually. Or someone else can take you in."

"Nobody ever understood me like Mycroft," said Sherlock quietly.

"Well, come with me, for now. We'll see how things go from there, alright?"

Sherlock nodded. Greg locked up his office and led the way out to his car. Sherlock was quiet as they drove to his flat. Greg was thinking things over. If Sherlock wanted to stay with Mycroft it might be feasible, but he doubted he'd get custody with their current living arrangement. They'd have to talk about it, figure out their options.

As they walked up to Greg's flat, Greg mentally kicked himself for not calling ahead and letting Mycroft know. Well, hopefully this wouldn't all go terribly.

"We have a guest," Greg called as he opened the door.

Mycroft was sitting on the sofa, dressed in one of Greg's old shirts and a pair of sweatpants. He'd been doing homework, but put the computer aside at the sound of the door. He spotted Sherlock and blinked a few times.

Sherlock pushed past Greg and went to him. "I've been looking for you," he said quietly.

"I've been here, oh about a week or so," said Mycroft.

Greg closed and locked the door, going into the kitchen to fix some tea and give them a moment of privacy. 

He could hear low voices but made an effort not to listen in, focusing on the comforting rhythm of making tea, getting out three mugs and arranging them on the tray. He took his time, wanting to give them a few minutes, but finally he carried the tray into the living room.

Sherlock was gone and Mycroft was looking very tired on the sofa.

"Everything okay?" asked Greg, putting the tray down and sitting next to Mycroft, gathering him against his chest.

"Sherlock went home. I gave him cab money. But he wants to come back."

"We can't keep him here, you know that, right? He's a minor," said Greg gently.

"We'll see," said Mycroft. Greg could practically hear the gears turning in his head. "The flat on the top floor has three bedrooms and it's going to be available to rent in a few days. We should move up there."

Greg frowned a bit. "Not sure I could afford the rent," he said.

"I'll talk to the landlord for you," said Mycroft. "You're a police officer, that will help. And that would give me a room I could use as a study and a guest bedroom."

Greg kissed his temple. "I'll leave it in your capable hands," he said with a soft smile. "For now, drink your tea and we'll go to bed."

"Alright."


	5. Chapter 5

Greg watched with a mixture of pride and bemusement as Mycroft dealt with the landlord, getting them that top floor flat for only a little more than what he was already paying. Whatever career Mycroft chose, he would be absolutely terrifying in it.

Sherlock showed up again on the weekend they planned to move, helping them shift everything up two flights to the top of the building. Greg was rather glad he hadn't collected a whole lot of stuff since the divorce.

In the end, everything was moved, they went furniture shopping so Sherlock would have a bed and a few other things, and Mycroft got a desk, his own computer and a few shelves. Greg tried not to wince as he put it all on his credit card, knowing he'd get it paid down eventually and that it would be worth it in the end.

The three of them decorated the flat for the holidays. It made his heart glad to see Sherlock and Mycroft together. Clearly there was still some baggage between them, but they were both trying to make an effort. Sherlock would often appear out of nowhere on, perhaps a Friday evening, and then vanish again on Sunday. Greg had no idea what he was telling his parents, but he knew it would all come crashing down eventually and all they could do was brace themselves. 

Greg hadn't been so happy since perhaps the early days of his marriage. He was rapidly falling in love with Mycroft, though he held back from saying those three little words, still not certain if Mycroft felt the same way.

But waking up with Mycroft in his bed made everything better. The sex was amazing, sure, but even seeing Mycroft smile made his heart do summersaults. There was nothing quite like coming home late from a hard case and knowing Mycroft would be there, and that he would roll over and snuggle against him when he climbed into bed.

Christmas Eve, Mycroft and Greg sat in front of the tree on the floor, leaning back against the sofa. Greg was tired and had one hand on Mycroft's thigh, dozing a little while Mycroft did some work on his laptop.

He woke up when he heard Mycroft close the laptop and set it aside. He smiled as Mycroft shifted to sit in his lap, kissing him gently. Greg cupped Mycroft's hips, heart aching as he kissed him back.

Mycroft pulled back and studied his face, something on his mind. Greg reached up to cup his cheek. "What is it?"

"I think I love you," said Mycroft quietly.

"Well I know I love you," answered Greg.

Mycroft's eyes were bright. "You do?"

"Very much so." Greg leaned in to kiss him again, then lay him back on the rug. "Have for a bit, really."

"I love you," Mycroft whispered. "You make me happy. You don't mind that I'm smarter than you. You encourage me."

"You're brilliant," said Greg, moving Mycroft's collar to kiss his throat. "You could run the world someday."

Mycroft ran fingers through his hair. "Even if I do, I'll still need you."

Greg smiled against his skin, undoing the rest of his buttons without looking. "I'm here, as long as you want me."

"Forever, then," said Mycroft.

Greg raised his head and kissed his lips. "Forever is a lot different when you're eighteen than when you're my age."

Mycroft wrapped his arms around him and rolled them over. "Your age doesn't bother me a bit; you really do love me. May I show you how much I love you?"

Greg's heart skipped in his chest. "What did you have in mind?"

"Would you let me take you?" Mycroft asked. "Should try it once, anyway."

Greg leaned up to kiss him. "Here? Or should we adjourn to the bedroom?"

"Bedroom, I think," said Mycroft, pulling back and helping Greg to his feet.

They went down the hall and Greg let Mycroft undress him and get him settled on the bed. "May I watch you open yourself?" he asked.

Greg nodded and grabbed the lube, spreading his thighs and coating his fingers. Greg teased himself, wetting his lips as Mycroft slowly removed his clothes.

Once he was nude, Mycroft climbed into bed, kissing Greg and grabbing the lube. Greg lay his hands by his side as Mycroft pressed a finger into him.

"Easy," he murmured, hips moving with Mycroft's touch.

Mycroft raised his head and looked at what he was doing, moving his hand slowly. He always had been a fast learner and this was clearly no exception to the rule. Greg closed his eyes and lay back, hips undulating slowly underneath Mycroft's touch. 

Mycroft worked slowly at first, giving Greg time to adjust. But he gradually added a second finger and then a third, alternating between kissing Greg and watching his face.

"God, yeah, feels good," murmured Greg, spreading himself a little wider. "I'm ready for you, love."

Mycroft smiled warmly and withdrew his hand. He settled in between Greg's thighs and carefully guided himself in. 

Greg moaned softly and arched up, murmuring instruction as Mycroft worked his way deeper into him. "Yeah, good," he said softly. "Feels good."

"I'm glad," murmured Mycroft, kissing him again as he bottomed out. He held himself there for just a moment, then started moving, no doubt copying the way Greg had always moved in him.

Greg shifted so he could wrap his legs around his lover's waist. "Yeah Mycroft, just like that," he said softly, moving with him, loving the feeling of it. He generally had always preferred to be the one taking in his relationships, but he wouldn't argue with doing this every now and again, if Mycroft wanted.

Mycroft groaned, looking a little overwhelmed with the sensations. But he clearly wasn't complaining either. He started moving a little fast, a little harder, just when Greg was about to tell him to. But he seemed to pick up on things very quickly and was soon all but pounding into Greg, breath harsh in Greg's ear as he neared his climax.

Greg worked a hand between them and started stroking himself, murmuring encouragement to Mycroft.

Mycroft groaned and came, panting into Greg's shoulder. Greg followed him a moment later and turned his head to kiss his cheek.

Smiling against Greg's skin, Mycroft tucked his head against Greg's shoulder. "Might be willing to do that again sometime, but I think I like it better the other way."

Greg ran his hands down Mycroft's back. "I enjoy being with you, if you want to try anything different, I don't mind."

"Part of what I love about you," murmured Mycroft.

Greg toyed with the hair at the nape of Mycroft's neck and soon enough they fell asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

The sound of the front door opening woke Greg. He got up, throwing on sleeping pants and a robe, leaving Mycroft dozing in his bed.

Sherlock was putting packages down under the tree. He looked up as Greg looked at him. "You're here a bit early. Won't your parents be missing you on Christmas morning?"

"We barely celebrate Christmas anyway," said Sherlock with a shrug. "Mycroft's still asleep?"

"For now, anyway. Want to help me make breakfast?"

"Alright," said Sherlock, following him into the kitchen.

Greg let Sherlock get to work doing some chopping while he put the kettle on and started on some eggs. Mycroft came out when they were nearly done, yawning and sitting down at the table to sip his tea and watch them.

It wasn't until he finished his first mug that he blinked at Sherlock as if seeing him for the first time. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"It's Christmas," he muttered, getting his own tea and sitting next to him.

"Mum won't like that," said Mycroft. 

"I don't care," said Sherlock, sipping his tea.

Greg finished up the omelets and brought them to the table. He leaned in to kiss Mycroft's cheek, just as there was a loud knock on the door.

"Mum," said Mycroft, pulling his robe a little tighter around himself.

"I'm not going home," said Sherlock, setting his jaw.

"Let's just talk to her," said Greg, going to answer the door, and well aware of the look the brothers were sharing.

The angry woman on his doorstep pushed her way into the flat before Greg could say a word. "Where is my son?" she demanded.

"Both of your sons are eating breakfast, care to join us?" asked Greg, closing the door behind her.

She ignored him and walked into the kitchen, ignoring Mycroft and fixing her glare on Sherlock. "Come along, you don't belong with these  _ perverts _ ."

"I'm gay too, you know," said Sherlock, taking another bite.

Mummy stepped back as if she'd been slapped. "What kind of horrible influence are you?" she asked Mycroft.

"He can't help who he loves any more than I can," said Mycroft. "And hello, Mum, it's been what? Fifteen months?"

"I haven't been counting," she said. "This is what you do with yourself? Shack up with a man old enough to be your father?"

"Greg cares for me," said Mycroft. "He helped me get enrolled in school again."

"Oh sure, he does that now, wait a few years until you start to lose your looks, by then he'll probably move on to Sherlock."

Greg stared at her, but before he could respond, Sherlock was on his feet. "You would know, wouldn't you, Mummy? And I've got plenty of proof if Dad decides to divorce you."

"How  _ dare _ you," hissed Mummy, taking a step towards him.

Mycroft put himself between the two of them. "You're not welcome here, Mum."

"Sherlock, come with me, you're going home."

"I'm doing no such thing. I'd rather stay here."

"Now Sherlock, she's your Mum. I can't keep you here if she forbids it," said Greg.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. He darted past his mother and into his room, coming back a moment later with letters. "These are from your  _ friend _ Mother."

Mummy went pale. "Where did you get those?"

Sherlock glared at her. "If you don't leave, I'll make sure father sees them. And maybe the ladies at church? I'm sure there are plenty of people who would be interested."

Mummy lunged for the letters, but Sherlock was faster, ducking back out of the kitchen and running to lock himself in his room. Snarling, Mummy turned on Mycroft. "This is your doing."

Mycroft actually laughed. "Not hardly," he said. "He's always been like this. And besides, I hadn't seen him in over a year when he tracked me down. Face it, Mummy, both of your sons are gay and your perfect family image was always false."

Before Greg could move, Mummy slapped Mycroft, hard enough to make him stumble.

"Okay, out," said Greg, pushing her away from Mycroft. "I should have you arrested for assault for that."

"I should have you arrested for kidnapping. And who knows what you've done to Sherlock."

"Not a damn thing. And I'm a cop, Mrs. Holmes so you really should leave. Sherlock wants to be here, you already kicked Mycroft out of your home, and he's an adult. I was willing to encourage Sherlock to go home with you, but not now. Are you hitting him, too?"

"How dare you," growled Mummy.

"The only person destroying this family is you," said Mycroft.

There was another knock on the door. Greg looked heavenward. "Don't you touch him," he warned, heading to answer it.

Sherlock answered it as he came out of the kitchen. A tired cop Greg didn't know was on the doorstep. she looked at Greg. "Got a call about a domestic?"

"It's not him it's my Mummy," said Sherlock, voice trembling as if he was scared.

Mummy came out of the kitchen, followed a moment later by Mycroft. "This is my son," said Mummy, moving towards Sherlock.

Sherlock took a step back, turning on the waterworks, voice hitching. The cop gently put herself between Sherlock as his mother. "I'm going to have call this in and get this sorted."

"I'm Deputy Inspector Greg Lestrade," said Greg, "you best let them know I'm involved."

"Sir," she said, reaching for her radio. Mummy took another step towards Sherlock.

"Ma'am, I need you to sit down over there," she said, warning in her voice.

"She slapped me," said Mycroft. "That's probably why Sherlock called." 

"I'll just get my badge," said Greg, stepping towards the bedroom. He pulled on a proper shirt and left the robe behind.

"Sorry about this being your Christmas," said Greg as he came back out and gave her his badge.

She shrugged. "I'll get promoted eventually." Mummy made another attempt to get closer to Sherlock. "Ma'am I said stay over there,"

A few other officers arrived only a few minutes later. Probably a slow morning. At least they were getting overtime. They were each taken aside to give statements. Greg was honest about how he was living with Mycroft and Sherlock had been visiting, but said he had no idea how Mrs. Holmes had located his address and confirmed that she'd slapped Mycroft.

"Alright," the first cop said finally. "Mrs. Holmes you need to leave. Mycroft has chosen not to press charges at this time. Your minor son would like to stay here, for now, but he understands that you still have custody. However this will go on your record and if there's any more reports of domestic violence you may lose that custody, do you understand?"

"Yes," she said, clearly unhappy.

"Good. I'm going to escort you off the premises. Have a good Christmas, Inspector." 

"You too, much as you can."

"Will do."

Greg watched as Mummy was escorted out the door, the other cops following behind. He sighed and sat down heavily on the sofa, running his hands through his hair.

Mycroft sat next to him and hugged him. "She won't bother us again."

"I hope not. Are you okay? She slapped you pretty hard."

Mycroft shrugged. "Fine."

"That wasn't the first time she hit you," muttered Sherlock. "I don't know why you didn't press charges."

"Maybe a little bit of Christmas charity," said Mycroft.

Sherlock made a noise and went over to the tree. "Should we open presents?"

"Sure," said Greg. "Breakfast has gone cold by now, anyway."

Sherlock passed out the gifts and they settled in to open them.

Later that day, with Sherlock in his room with his new chemistry set, Mycroft and Greg cuddled in bed. 

Greg had been thinking over that morning's events and he kissed Mycroft gently. "Sherlock said it wasn't the first time she'd hit you."

Mycroft sighed. "It didn't happen all that often," he said quietly.

Greg cupped his cheek. "It shouldn't have happened at all."

"The most important thing is it won't happen again," said Mycroft.

"Damn right it won't happen again," said Greg.

Mycroft smiled and kissed him. "You take good care of me," he said. 

"I do my best," said Greg, hand slipping to Mycroft's thigh. "Is he going to be busy with that chemistry set for a while?"

"Likely," said Mycroft, shivering with anticipation. "I'll be quiet."

"Good," murmured Greg, sitting up against the headboard and tugging Mycroft into his lap. He kissed his throat and pulled the tie free on his robe. "I think you might be the best thing to ever happen to me."

"I know you're the best thing to happen to me," said Mycroft, biting back a moan as Greg gave his cock a stroke.

Greg wrapped an arm around Mycroft's waist and lifted him. Mycroft was still open from the night before and he gave a breathy moan as he was filled.

"Quiet," murmured Greg, mouthing his neck as he rolled them over. 

Mycroft muffled himself in the blankets as Greg grabbed his hips and took him with long, sure strokes. If someone had told him six months earlier that this was where his life would be, he wouldn't have believed it, but now, he couldn't imagine any future without Mycroft in it. And he'd do what he could to keep Sherlock safe, too.

Greg focused on Mycroft, the way his body tensed and relaxed with every stroke. He reached around to take Mycroft in hand, reveling in the little noises that he couldn't quite keep in.

He brought Mycroft over first, then turned to his own pleasure, eyes closing as he chased his climax, hips stuttering as he came.

Finally, he rolled them onto their sides, spooning tightly around Mycroft. "I love you," he said softly, kissing his shoulder.

"I love you too."


	7. Epilogue

It was just over two years later that Greg got a notice that his credit cards had all been paid off. He frowned, wondering. Mycroft had only attended school for about a year before he'd gotten recruited into some government agency. Sometimes he had to go off and do fieldwork, but most of the time he was in the office. Well, as far as Greg knew, anyway. Whatever it was, it was all very hush-hush.

Sherlock was still living with them most of the time. He could be a handful, but Greg didn't really mind all that much, and he was glad he could be a safe haven. Sometimes, he let Sherlock look at his cold cases, though more than once he'd poked around current ones, too. Greg knew he'd never be a police officer, though. He was far too independent, but he was helpful.

Taking the letter about his credit cards into the flat, Greg found Mycroft on the sofa doing something on the computer. "I take it this is your doing?" asked Greg, showing him the letter.

Mycroft gave him a shy smile. "It seemed the least I could do with the bonus I just received."

"Well, you didn't have to, but I appreciate it," said Greg, sitting next to him.

Mycroft put the computer aside and leaned against him. "Greg?"

"Hmm?" asked Greg, running fingers through his hair.

"Would you ever want to get married again?"

Greg blinked a few times. "To you? Yes."

Mycroft turned his head and kissed him, then went down to one knee. "Would you marry me, then?"

"Didn't I just say yes?" smiled Greg, leaning down to kiss him. 

Mycroft kissed him back, climbing into his lap. "There's nothing I want more," he said.

Greg grinned and tugged on his lapels. "This really suits you," he murmured.

"I'm quite aware of just how much you like it," said Mycroft, kissing him again. "Take me to bed?"

"Certainly," said Greg, letting Mycroft help him to his feet. They only made it halfway down the hall before Greg was crowding him against the wall. "Not sure I'm going to make it all the way to the bedroom, he growled."

"Drat," said Mycroft, breathing heavily.

"I know you want me," said Greg, slotting a thigh against him.

Mycroft moaned. "Always."

"Mm, how about you get on your knees for me, posh boy."

Mycroft smiled. "I'd love to."

Greg stepped back and Mycroft slipped to his knees, getting Greg's flies open. Greg ran a hand through Mycroft's hair as he got Greg's cock out, going down on him with eagerness.

"Yeah," just like that murmured Greg, bracing one hand on the wall as Mycroft took him nearly all the way down. He loved Mycroft's mouth but there was something even hotter about him doing this in a full suit. Mycroft's curl fell over his forehead as he bobbed his head.

Greg's eyes slipped closed as Mycroft worked him over for a few minutes more. 

"Okay, I want to fuck you," said Greg, pulling back and taking Mycroft's hand, helping him to his feet as they stumbled the rest of the way to the bedroom.

He got Mycroft's belt open and bent him over the edge of the bed, pulling his clothes down only as far as he needed to. He leaned over to get the lube out of the drawer and coated his fingers, pushing two of them roughly into Mycroft.

Mycroft moaned and braced himself, eager for what Greg had to offer.

Greg soon slicked himself and pushed in, holding Mycroft's hips. Mycroft moaned and rocked back against him. "Please," he groaned.

Never able to resist when Mycroft begged, he squeezed Mycroft's hips, driving him against the bed, breath harsh in his own ears. He was certain he would never get tired of Mycroft beneath him.

He came with a soft groan and pulled out, flipping Mycroft over, going to his knees and swallowing him all at once. 

Mycroft cried out and came, gripping the bedsheets. Greg moaned at the taste of him washing over his tongue.

Finally, Greg got his feet again and flopped next to Mycroft, kissing him gently. "When do you want to get married?" he asked.

"How about a winter wedding?" he asked.

"Sounds good to me," said Greg, smiling. "I love you."

"I love you, too. I'm so glad you're in my life."

"I'm glad for you every day." Greg picked up Mycroft's hand and kissed his knuckles. "What do you say we go out for dinner, celebrate?"

"Besides this?" grinned Mycroft. "Alright. Let's get freshened up."

"Good." Greg kissed him one more time and reluctantly got up.

Mycroft joined him in the shower. As Greg washed Mycroft's back he reflected on how lucky he still felt and how glad he was for Mycroft in his life. He could only imagine how amazing their future would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading along. I hope you all enjoyed! You can find me on twitter and tumblr @merindab


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